


Sin and Salvation

by krysnel_nicavis



Series: Porn on the Cutting Room Floor (and other places) [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Castiel/Dean Winchester in Purgatory, M/M, Outdoor Sex, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Season/Series 07, Purgatory Sex, Romance, Season/Series 08, Wordcount: 1.000-3.000, bottom!Castiel, top!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-11-15 13:25:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11231913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krysnel_nicavis/pseuds/krysnel_nicavis
Summary: Dean drew in a slow breath of stale air, head tipping back and eyes falling shut.  It thrummed under his skin.  In his veins.  Just beneath the surface.  It had been there, building, from the moment he’d landed in purgatory.  It built and built, rising up from the depths of his being, getting closer to the surface of his skin.  It had only come to a head, finally sated, once he’d had what he needed.  What heyearnedfor…





	Sin and Salvation

**Author's Note:**

> Post-Season 7/Pre-Season 8 (Takes place during year in purgatory)

There was something about this place.

Something pure.

Something… _primal_.  It played on his instincts and fed off his need.

As much as he wanted to get out of this (literally) Chuck forsaken monster hell, a part of him never really wanted to leave it.  He knew where he stood.  What his place was.  He was a predator in a world full of predators.  Occasionally he nearly became someone’s prey, but that never did work out the way the monsters who tried to take a chunk out of him planned.  Some he recognized, like Gordon Walker.  Most recognized him – by image or reputation, it didn’t matter.  They all met their end thanks to either his improvised blade or his unlikely ally.

Purgatory.  Dean Winchester snorted as he leaned up against a tree, surveying his surroundings.  The dim light of the eternal twilight that existed in place of sunlight was beginning to fade into the darkness that had surrounded him when he first found himself in this plane of existence.  They had been together, the two of them, for the first few minutes before he’d begun to regain his bearings.  And then he was alone.  Behind Dean, Benny Lafitte – a vampire, who’d saved his hide not long after his Angel had flown off to parts unknown – was behind him in the clearing, finishing off the last of the most recent group who’d tried to take the three of them down.

Dean drew in a slow breath of stale air, head tipping back and eyes falling shut.  It thrummed under his skin.  In his veins.  Just beneath the surface.  It had been there, building, from the moment he’d landed in purgatory.  It built and built, rising up from the depths of his being, getting closer to the surface of his skin.  It had only come to a head, finally sated, once he’d had what he needed.  What he _yearned_ for: Castiel, and his own body gyrating as he was settled between the angel’s thighs, thrusting into the tight heat of his angel’s ass.

Dean’s mind’s eye turned back to the moment, he’d found what he was searching so single-mindedly for.  After finding the angel, Benny had graciously wandered off a little ways under the guise of keeping watch over their temporary base and left the two alone.  All this time, every fibre of his being had been pushing him, driving him: _find the angel… find the angel, find him… find him, findhimfindhimfindhim_.  And when he finally did, when he wrapped his arms around his angel and pulled their bodies close, the floodgates opened and the persistent hum under his skin bubbled and shook.  All he knew was _need, need, need_.  Benny seemed to know without being told and excused himself.

Once they were alone and Dean drew their bodies together again, the look on Castiel’s face shifted from ready to fly away at any given moment to one that was heated and intense and had just the right degree of challenge.  It was a look Dean was intimately familiar with but one that he’d never allowed himself to physically follow through on answering.  He took a shaky breath, trying to calm the animalistic _need_ raging inside him to _taketaketake_ , determined to take his time and not simply rush into this like he was with something pretty he’d picked up at the local bar.  The setting could’ve been better but it was unimportant.  He had to do this calmly, every movement filled with focused intent.  Cas deserved that much from him.

Their chapped lips met and they each fought for dominance of the kiss, neither giving an inch.  The growth of Castiel’s beard scratching on Dean’s roughly shaved stubble, his own beard only kept messily at bay thanks to the pocketknife he always carried in his pocket.  Dean, utilizing his years of practical experience, eventually won control and kissed Cas so thoroughly he knew he’d be the one the angel compared all other kisses to.  He slid his hands up and under the dirty trench coat, pushing it back and off Castiel’s strong shoulders.  No one who looked at him would guess the muscular physique that the angel hid underneath the ever-present layers he insisted on draping his vessel in.

Dean had chuckled as Castiel practically ripped his jacket off of him, a look of determination on his own face as he divested his soon-to-be human lover of clothing.  They’d stripped their dirty clothes, leaving them in disorganized piles near the edge of the river and Cas had lead him into a deep portion just a few yards away.

They’d washed the grime from each other’s skin and hair, hands exploring where they’d never dared before.  Castiel had then put his grace to use in proving that he did indeed have an abundance of theoretical knowledge of sexual intercourse among humans, even if he’d never had the opportunity for, as Dean had once put it, “doing a little cloud seeding”.  He’d mojo’d into existence the required lubrication and, with Castiel laid out on his back on a (in hindsight) conspicuously conveniently placed rock, Dean eagerly dove into the task of pulling the often tightly wound angel to pieces with his fingers as he stretched and prepared his angel for something else he knew he’d forever be the comparison for.

When he finally pushed the head of his cock past tight ring of Castiel’s ass, as cheesy and trashy romance novel worthy as it was, Dean couldn’t help but find himself wondering if purgatory wasn’t actually his own personal slice of heaven…  Despite all the crap he’d been through so far in this place, it looked like the positives were beginning to outweigh the bad.

In the end, the incessant need abated and he had some fresh, lightly bleeding scratches in various places down his back and along his arms where Cas had tried to gain purchase on his water and sweat slicked skin.

Dean exhaled audibly, eyes opening as he levelled his gaze to retake in his surroundings.  The yearning need in his very soul had only temporarily been sated.  As they made their way to the escape portal Benny lead them to, it recharged like a distracting battery.  If left unchecked, it would twist him, turning him into a malicious facsimile of the monsters who lived out their accursed afterlife in this plane.  It made him feel like he was losing what was left of his sanity… what was left of his _humanity_.

He caught Cas’ eye and held his gaze for a few moments longer than was probably necessary.  But that was the norm for them on a good day.  Without saying anything the two moved a short distance away from the clearing.  With the enhanced senses their vampiric companion was cursed with, they really couldn’t get away from being overheard, but at least the distance gave the illusion of privacy.

The crunch of the dead leaves that littered the forest floor was the only sound in the perpetual silence of their surroundings.  When they were an acceptable distance away from the clearing, Dean’s back was pushed up against the rough bark of a random tree as Castiel kneeled in front of him, the knees of the filthy hospital scrubs picking up yet more dirt. Dean breathed a light moan as Cas mouthed his dick through the thick fabric of his denim jeans.  He looked down into crystalline blue eyes and ran a hand through thick, dark hair.  Their gazes never strayed even as Castiel unfastened his jeans and pulled them down around this thighs, freeing his fully erect cock, even as the tip lightly smacked against the angel’s cheek.  Cas held his gaze as his chapped pink lips closed around the head of his cock and his throat effortlessly took in Dean’s entire length.  Dean moaned, massaging Cas’ scalp as he thrust into the pliant mouth.

The air was filled with obscene gulping and slurping sounds as the hunter face-fucked the vessel of the ethereal being who’d dragged his soul out of the depths of hell.  Dean’s head made a soft _thunk_ as the back of it hit the tree he leaned against, a satisfied groan escaping his throat when Cas switched to sucking on his balls.

Cas pulled away and stood, shedding his coat and top, dropping both items behind him.  The leaves crunched beneath their feet as they switched places, Castiel’s bare back pressed to the trunk of the tree.  Dean pulled the angel’s pants down to just above his knees and reached between the sculpted thighs, past Cas’ perineum, until his fingers found the lightly stretched ring of Castiel’s ass.  His middle and forefinger slipped in easily, immediately covered by the slick lubricant provided by the angel’s grace.  He was still fairly open from their last fuck only a few hours prior.  Dean made sure Cas was adequately stretched – he refused to chance hurting his lover, the angel’s ability to dull pain be damned.  They softly groaned as they exchanged a sloppy kiss.

Dean removed his hand and turned Cas around to face the tree.  He kissed his left shoulder before placing a hand between his shoulder blades and pressing, prompting Cas to lean his torso forward.  He did so and braced his forearms on the trunk in front of him.  Dean, palms pressed flat to the tanned, unmarked skin in front of him, slid his hands down cupping Castiel’s ass and squeezing the fleshy mounds before spreading his cheeks to see the angel’s stretched hole.  Dean bit his bottom lip, a grin forming in his anticipation.  Using one hand he took hold of his cock and lined the tip up before pressing it in.  Cas sighed as he slid inside, the incessant thrum in his veins bubbling to a happy tingle a sigh of his own escaping his throat.  His hands moved to grasp the angel’s hips as he began with slow, calculated thrusts.  Dean paused and licked his lips, sliding his right hand up Cas’ stomach and chest, pulling him into a standing position, and continuing until he held his throat against his palm, his left hand sliding forward to rest on his stomach.  He resumed with a quick, hard thrust, the change of angle enough that he nailed Cas’ prostate.

Cas let out a startled moan, ass clenching momentarily around Dean’s cock.  The hunter began thrusting in earnest, feeling the blood pulsing in Cas’ neck through his hand in a complimentary rhythm to the rapid beating in his own chest.  Cas could probably feel his heated breath on his ear as Dean breathed hard.  He dragged his lips along the angel’s neck in disordered and clumsy attempts at kisses.

He suddenly pulled out and, in a move reminiscent of his high school wrestling days, effortlessly maneuvered Cas onto his back on the ground.  He smirked as he slid Cas’ pants down to around his ankles, not removing them.  Dean hooked Cas’ trapped feet behind his head, torso pressed to the backs of his thighs as he pressed his cock back in.

Cas braced one arm against the tree trunk that was now about a handspan above him to prevent the vigorous movement from causing his head to bang against it, his free hand on the side of Dean’s face, thumb caressing his bottom lip.  Dean drew the thumb into his mouth, sucking on it and catching it between his teeth, letting it go with a grin.  Cas pushed himself up to capture the hunter’s lips with his own before letting himself drop back down, bracing himself agains the tree with both forearms as Dean increased his speed, thrusting hard into the muscular body below him, arm and thigh muscles pulled taut in their exertion.  The sound of skin slapping on skin accompanying the rustling of the dried leaves around them.

Dean reached up and grasped Cas’ arms, pulling hard so that Cas’s body lifted off the ground.  He leaned back to balance as he held Cas up in front of him, arms wrapped around his back and Cas’ body bent in half.  Cas wrapped his arms around Dean’s neck as best as he could with his ankles still trapped a little awkwardly in his pants as Dean fucked up into him.  They grunted low moans, breathing heavily.

Dean was getting close.  He lowered Cas back to the ground, unhooking the angel’s feet from behind his head and slipping the shoes and pants from Cas’ trapped feet, leaving him completely bare.  He then made quick work of removing his jacket and shirt, tossing them aside, leaving only his own pants – which were still somewhere around his knees – and shoes.  Cas wrapped his arms around Dean’s shoulders as he was pulled back up, knees on either side of Dean’s hips.  Dean held Cas to him as he moved them around so his own back was braced against the tree as he leaned back enough for Cas to ride him.

Cas ground down a few times to gauge the angle, stealing a lingering kiss, before lifting himself up and slamming back down.  This had become one of his favourite things in the last few days: his angel, sitting astride him, his hands hooked behind his angel’s knees as his cock was ridden like a pogo stick.

Cas was close.  Dean could see it.  He watched the angel’s face with focused precision, almost willing the other over the edge knowing it was the last thing he himself needed to witness in order to reach that finish line.  Cas’ eyes fluttered shut, his mouth opened and gasping.   _Come on, Cas._ His head fell back and he’d curl forward in three… two… _there_.

Castiel moaned, forehead pressed to Dean’s shoulder, body tense as his hole clenched around Dean’s cock.  His semen splattered on Dean’s bare chest and the hunter felt his balls draw tight moments before coming, fully encased in the angel’s ass.

There would come a time, much later, when it was dark and he was left completely alone with only his thoughts for company, that Dean would think of that conspicuous rock in the river and wonder at the fact that their private moments here in monster hell were never interrupted.  But that would come later.

For now, Dean felt the light burn of his taxed muscles as he pulled his perpetually dirty clothes back on – the semen mojo’d from their skin by the angel currently slipping his shoes back on.  The constant _needneedneedneed_ had sunk back into the deeper parts of his being.  Benny had assured them that it shouldn’t take them too much longer to get to the portal.  They had to get moving.  They had to get home.

-30-

**Author's Note:**

> Not my best work, but considering I haven't written anything in about three months (since before my dog died) it's not all that bad. At least it's something, and that's better than nothing. Apologies if any of it isn't cohesive, I'm still getting back into a semi-normal head space. It's a process.
> 
> Other than that, I hope you enjoyed.
> 
> PS: A part at the end alludes to 12.09 First Blood.
> 
>  **Side story time:**  
>  I was discussing this, in detail, with my sister as I was writing it via text while she was at work. She's a desk clerk at a hotel and the lunch room is located directly next to the desk. When we were doing this there was a prayer group in the lunch room. So basically, we were discussing gay porn featuring an Angel of the Lord and the Righteous Man while a group of Christians were praying, and pretty much came to the conclusion that, hey, at least we'll know someone in hell, lol.


End file.
